Thinking Straight
by isolated-granger
Summary: When Draco is employed by the Dark Lord to kill Dumbledore he realised that this life isn't the life he wants. In a moment of weakness he asks Hermione Granger the one person he can never show weakness to, to help him fail his task without Voldemort killing him and his family. But it's hard for them to work together when she stops him thinking straight. Dramione.
1. Dreams and Spies

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters etc.  
A/N This is my first fic ever (scary). Set around the beginning of HBP most things from previously will stay the same but I might change up a scene or two. Hope you enjoy xx

 _He was stuck. Stood in the middle of a whirlwind of colours. Blacks and Greys swirled around him, pulling his head around and suffocating him. He couldn't think straight, it was like his thought were being dragged from his head and into the uncontrollable hurricane of colour surrounding him. A streak of platinum blond mixed with a grey so pale it was almost white slashed past him so rapidly it spun his entire body around. The speed of the colours was so fast it created a tornado, keeping him in the eye of the colour storm. A vibrant flash of green and red wrapped itself around him before vanishing into the grey. He could hear distant screams and yells but couldn't quite figure out where they were coming from. Everything stopped at once and he was standing at the bottom of a narrow spiral staircase, looking behind him at the blank wall and realising the only way out was up, he began to climb the stairs. Gripping the stair rail he edged around the tight bend of the stairwell taking as many steps at once as his legs would allow him to. The further up he got, the narrower the stairwell became and the taller the steps. After what seemed like hours of climbing he reached a small door, cautiously pushing it open he crawled out into a small shop full of unusual objects and even more unusual people. At the centre of the group was a tall pale man dressed entirely in black. Looking around he realised that although he could vaguely recollect seeing some of the faces before many of them were masked and even more had their backs to him. Standing up straight he watched as the tall man started to slowly glide forwards.  
Extending his hand towards him the man began to speak. "Hold out your arm for me dear boy" He hissed "Hold out your arm dear boy and you shall be forgiven." Refusing to hold out his arm he started to back away, reaching behind him for the door only to find that it had vanished and he was once again stuck. The pale man continued to glide towards him, the strange people also began to move forwards, those who had had their backs to him turned round and without warning everyone in the room joined in with the man's hisses "Hold out your arm boy"  
"Be a good boy and hold out your arm"  
_" _Don't you want to be forgiven boy?"  
"Hold out your arm"  
The people continued to move closer and closer, enclosing the boy in a sea of black robes and hissed words.  
"No" he cried dropping to the floor and covering his head with his arms "NO!"_  
Draco woke suddenly, drenched in a cold sweat.  
Sitting bolt upright he fumbled around on the floor by his bed quickly grabbing his wand and breathing a quiet _lumos_ charm allowing his room to be flooded with light. Swiftly dimming the light at the tip of his wand as to not disturb his Mother in the room down the hall he swung his pyjama clad legs out from under the duvet and planted his bare feet on the cold wooden floor. Stopping only to grab a thick woollen cloak to pull around himself, Draco stumbled to the door of his oversized room. Pushing it open cautiously he tiptoed down the long, dark corridor to what once would have been the servants stairs in the old manor house Draco called home.  
When he reached the bottom, feeling comfortable that he was out of earshot of anybody upstairs, Draco relaxed his figure and strode across the kitchen, cloak flowing behind him, to flick on the bright spotlights that had been fitted throughout the manor some years previously. His Father had agreed (very reluctantly) to the use of various muggle inventions in the house, for convenience and practicality if nothing else, and for this Draco was thankful. Lucius might not have put his prejudices completely to the side, if at all, but he had certainly moved out of the dark ages, unlike his sister-in-law, Draco's Aunt Bella who refused to have any association with anything remotely connected with the non magical vermin she considered below herself. Draco was surprised she even wore clothes as he was pretty sure they had been invented by muggles as well as more modern things like electricity.  
The thought of his Aunt marching down Diagon Ally stark naked popped into Draco's mind and he shuddered at the thought.  
Draco made his way over to the cupboard, putting out the light at the end of his wand and shoving it into the pocket of his cloak, and began to make himself a pot of hot chocolate. He could have summoned one of the house elves, they were always happy to help, Draco especially as he was the only Malfoy, including his Mother, who spoke to them with respect and treated them like people. However he didn't think that a mug of hot chocolate was worth waking the household staff over. Draco had always preferred to make his chocolate the muggle way anyway, measuring out the powder and water, it relaxed him, he thought it tasted better and (though he would never admit this to anybody) he did it because he knew it annoyed his Father.  
His Father. That was what had woken him. Draco immediately remembered the reason he was up at such an unwizardly hour. He'd had another nightmare. Not that he was surprised, just annoyed, he hadn't slept properly for months now. Not since...no. Draco didn't want to think about that now. He pulled himself out of his thoughts long enough to pour the boiling water over the chocolate powder and pick up his steaming mug. Carrying it over to the table, he sat down and took a long sip of the hot silky liquid. Placing the mug down and burying his head in his hands Draco began to replay the nightmare over and over in his head like he had done so many times before. His last thought before he drifted off to sleep again was that he wished he had been as brave as the boy in his nightmare.

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"Are you alright Draco? You've been awfully quiet all day." Pansy purred into his ear, continuing to gently drag her fingers through his hair and across his scalp. _God she's so fucking clingy. He thought. Is she stroking my fucking head? Seriously Parkinson get the fuck off me!_ He was screaming in his head. He really didn't know why he bothered being friends with her, let alone anything more, but he knew it pleased his parents. The Parkinsons were very old family friends and he couldn't do anything to jeopardise this generations old bond, especially now that the Malfoys were so lowly regarded within their social circles. Mostly due to his Father's failure as a servant of the Dark Lord and his consequential imprisonment in Azkaban.  
He sighed, sitting up and shuffling along the bench out of Pansy's reach he reassured her that he was perfectly alright, just a bit tired. This was perfectly true, he still hadn't gotten a full night's sleep since the first week in the holidays and he as still having the same nightmare over and over again. Last night however Draco hadn't gone back to sleep afterwards, he was too busy worrying about the coming year at Hogwarts, the secrets he would have to keep and the things he would inevitably have to do. No matter how hard he tried, Draco couldn't forget the task he had been burdened with, or the mark that had been branded into the skin on his left arm less than a month after his Father had been arrested for the attempted murder of six, fifth year students of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Students that his son was all too familiar with.  
A small part of Draco still blamed himself for this. If he had kept control of the Weasley girl then maybe Harry Potter and his little gang of do gooders would never have made it the Ministry, and maybe his Father would be sat at home in his study receiving praise from Voldemort himself for retrieving whatever it was Lucius was meant to have retrieved from the Department of Mysteries. And then Draco would maybe have been able to enjoy his sixth year of school rather than worrying about how the fuck he was going to kill his headmaster. Or maybe his pathetic excuse of a Father would have ended up in Azkaban anyway, because maybe that's where he deserved to be.  
Draco was dragged away from his thoughts by the deep calm voice of his best friend Blaise telling him to "get his robes on, we're nearly at Hogwarts"  
Ten minutes later Draco and his fellow Slytherins were all settled down in their robes and chatting about how they couldn't wait to have free lessons and how they no longer had to take divination "Load of hippogriff shit if you ask me" Theo joked. The compartment erupted in a series of snorts, guffaws and one very noticeable high pitched giggle, coming from Theo's girlfriend Astoria Greengrass (a nice enough fifth year who unfortunately had an unbreakable habit of following her older sister Daphne, and her friends around like an annoying Hufflepuff). As the laughter died down Draco could have sworn he saw one of the trunks move, he shook it off, assuming it must just be the lack of sleep but then he saw it again and he heard a slight knock coming from behind the moving trunk.  
When the train stopped and everyone else had grabbed their things, Draco hung back a second or two, pulling his wand out of his robe he aimed just behind the moving case " _Petrificus Totalus_ " and just as he had suspected, Potter fell down from the luggage rack, his invisibility cloak fluttering off his motionless body. "Spying Potter?" Draco spat down at him "Did your Mother never tell you that was rude? Oh wait! You never had a Mother, did you Potter?" Kicking Harry in his ribs, Draco heard a muffled groan before he spun around and marched off the train.  
He had no idea why he was so furious but he spent the rest of the journey to Hogwarts in silence. He should have done more than petrify Potter and kick him in the gut. The nerve he had, what did he expect to learn from spying on them? Draco wondered Unless... But no. How could Potter possibly know about the Mark.  
It all came flooding back to him then, how on that awful day two months ago he had seen a flash of ginger and a blur of bushy brown hair, and where there was Weasley and Granger...there was Potter.  
He recalled seeing the more noticeable members of the Golden Trio, as they were so often called, down Knockturn Alley as he had slipped through the shadows making his way to Borgin and Burke's for the ceremony. They might have followed him that far but there was no way they could have known what was happening. No way they could have seen Voldemort practically float across the room, reaching for Draco's arm, telling him that if he just did this one...little thing, that his family would be redeemed and his Father's life spared. Draco, convinced his secret was safe from the so called Golden Trio and that Potter was just a nosey little bastard who couldn't help sticking his nose into anything remotely suspicious, sat back in the carriage and relaxed for the rest of the trip to Hogwarts.

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"Oh Harry! You can't possibly expect us to take you seriously. He was probably a little bit pissed of because you hid in his compartment to spy on him!" Hermione exclaimed.  
"I'm telling you 'Mione, it was more than a little temper tantrum. He looked furious, and even a little scared. Scared that I'd heard something he didn't want me to hear, didn't want anyone to hear judging by the locked door. He's up to something no good I promise you Hermione." Harry insisted, glancing over Hermione's shoulder at Ron for support. Ron, usually up for bad mouthing any of the Slytherins, just shrugged his shoulders and made a non-committal grunt in return and shoved another slice of chocolate cake into his already full mouth.  
Rolling her eyes at Harry, Hermione decided not to protest any further. He'd been like this since the three of them had seen Malfoy looking around suspiciously before disappearing into Borgin and Burke's at the beginning of the summer, persistently insisting that he was up to no good and working for Voldemort in place of his Father Lucius. There really was no point arguing any more, Harry would continue on his warpath against Draco Malfoy until one or the other was dead...or worse. Expelled. She chuckled to herself in memory of first year Hermione who had never even returned a library book late. _Now look at yourself._ She thought. _Battling Death Eaters after breaking out of the school, what next? Running around kissing them!_ Laughing out loud at the absurdity of her thoughts earned herself an odd look from Harry. "Just a funny thought." She supplied as way of explanation for her unusual outburst. "Anyway, shouldn't we go and unpack?"  
"Practical to the last second 'Mione, we can always count on you to think straight and put us in our places." Harry laughed getting up off the bench and heading to the doors of the Great Hall.  
"Bu m ill e in!" Protested Ron who was quickly gathering more food onto his plate.  
"What was that Ron? I didn't quite catch what you said, you're still eating."  
"I said." Ron growled after swallowing "That I am still. Eating."  
"Oh come on Ron! You've eaten more than me and Harry put together can't you live without that last swiss roll?" Hermione laughed. Grudgingly leaving the table and his seventh helping of pudding behind Ron trudged out of the Hall behind his friends grumbling about cake, and jelly and ice cream.

A/N Bit of a necessary filler chapter to introduce the story etc, hopefully things will get going in the next chapter, Unedited, hope you like, please review and tell me how to do things better. Also not sure if I like the name or not yet so it might change xx


	2. Confrontations and Mudbloods (or not)

A/N Sorry it's been a bit of a wait, I have quite a bit of revision over the holidays for Mock ( Practice) Exams in January, so I might not be updating as frequently as I want to be. Thanks to dungbombacidpops for my first review. Hope you enjoy xx

4 weeks into the term and Draco was slumped in his chair in the common room. Well technically speaking it wasn't _his_ chair but if anyone else sat there he stared at them until they moved and let him sit down. He was absently flicking the pages in his Alchemy text book, he had a test the next day and he was trying to keep his mind on his studies, hell if he didn't come top of his year for the sixth year running he was pretty sure his Father would break out of Azkaban just to punish him. Soon though Draco's mind began to wander, it meandered through his thoughts of school work, the pretty girl sat across the common room trying to catch his eye and he, of course, ended up thinking about the tarnished skin on his left arm and what it meant for him.

Draco still had no idea how to kill Dumbledore and manage not to get caught himself, not that that was part of the brief, just his Malfoy self preservation kicking in. Still no idea how, or even if he could, or... even if he... _wanted_ to. Of course he wanted to! "You will kill Albus Dumbledore or your Father will pay-dearly- for his. Failure." That was what Voldemort had said, and he couldn't let his Father die. Lucius mightn't have been the best Father in the world but he loved his son. Yeah, loved him enough to let his sister-in-law practice the cruciatus curse on him when she escaped from Azkaban. Loved him enough to turn him into a racist before the age of twelve. Loved him enough to let him throw terms like mudblood around like a quaffle, without thinking about how or caring that it would affect his relationships with people at school. Draco thought bitterly. He resented his Father for all that he'd done to him, he had for quite a while now, but he'd never thought he could let him die. But there again, he never thought that he'd be put in a position where he was in control of his Father's life.

Draco had thought through so many different ways that he could kill his headmaster, he had planned it all out in his mind but whenever he got to the actual killing part he came up with an excuse. I'd get caught. Too obvious what I'm going to do. Too brutal. It all came down to one thing, Draco realised was no killer. He was a bully, sure he could admit to that, he was one of the smartest in the year, he was creative and witty, good in a fight, be it magical, verbal or physical but he didn't believe he had it in him to kill.

Draco couldn't kill Dumbledore, not by himself, not without help. So what were his options? He could go talk to the batty old man himself, explain everything, that he only agreed to help his Father and that now he was seriously reconsidering this decision. Dumbledore was a great believer in second chances. Or he could get someone to help him do it in a way that wouldn't actually require him to do the killing. Or he could get someone to help him not do it at all but making it look like he tried to do it so he and his Mother wouldn't be murdered as well as his Father. But who the fuck is that smart! Draco was practically screaming in his own head. He'd been thinking for months and still had nothing, so what made him think anyone else could do it, Merlin knew. Unless… The thought flew into Draco's head but he threw it out just as suddenly. He could not show that girl weakness. Would not show her weakness. Draco no longer cared about Hermione Granger's blood status, and he hadn't for almost as long as he'd hated his Father. Blood status meant nothing to Draco, it was all just titles but Granger was different. She was part of the bloody Golden Trio, she was good and pure and pathetic. Hermione Granger was the first person he called mudblood and she hadn't even understood what he'd said. And Draco refused to acknowledge that Granger, with hair that looked like a nest, was the only person capable of completing such a dangerous and impossible mission. He would NOT ask for her help and show her that he was less than perfect. Slamming his book down on the centre table Draco rose out of his chair and slammed out of the common room so fast that the force of his movement knocked a cowering first year over into the noticeboard. He needed to go out and just be… just be. And he certainly wasn't going to be able to do that with first years running around and that floozy giving him the eye and nibbling on her lip. Not that he would have said no at any other time, especially with the lip nibbling going on, he had a notable weakness for that, he was just too preoccupied and pissed off, and he could never enjoy himself when he was pissed off and preoccupied.

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An hour later and his mind was still clouded with problems but desert of solutions to any of them. "Dammit Granger!" He screamed into the clouds scaring the birds sat by the Whomping Willow. Getting up off the floor Draco ran back over to the castle half to let off some steam and come to terms with what he was going to do, and half so he wasn't outside after dark. Again.

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Hermione was not, looking forward to her Alchemy class. She was one of the few students, mostly Ravenclaws who had chosen the specialist subject in her sixth year and consequently most of the Ravenclaws grabbed the empty desks so they could concentrate on the class better, not that any of them would distract each other. This wouldn't be a problem for Hermione if she hadn't been left with one desk at the back of the classroom to share with the other non Ravenclaw student, Malfoy. He hadn't been rude to her all year though, in the first lesson he had strutted in late, swung into the chair next to her with a disgusted look and hadn't said a word to her since. No he hadn't said anything, not a comment on her hair, her slightly abnormally large teeth or, most surprisingly, her blood status, for the past four weeks. What he had done however, was mope. He slumped into classes with even less expression on his pale face than usual, stared blankly at the teacher whilst making notes and then slumped out of the door again. There was a rare exception to this moping that was when he ran into the room late and flustered claiming that he had overslept. On these occasions Hermione had noticed that Draco always seemed to pay more attention and participate more in the lesson.

Hermione reluctantly put her book down and rose out of the chair, grabbing her back she got up a brisk pace and sped off to the Alchemy classroom.

About halfway there her shoelace came untied and as she bent to lace it up again she felt a firm hand covering her mouth and another around her waist. Tensing up Hermione began to fight against the tight grasp as she was dragged into an empty classroom. She quickly bit down on the hand over her mouth and her captor swiftly let her go, dropping her to the floor. "Aaagh! Bloody hell! What the fuck was that for? Fucking Moodbl..." The voice trailed off. Recognising the speaker Hermione got up, dusting herself off she looked over to where a tall slim figure was stood. "Malfoy?" She spoke angrily "What the hell was that for?" marching over to where he was stood she pushed her flat palms against his solid chest and shoved him into the wall. "Oi what wa...oh never mind. I need to talk to you."

"And kidnapping me from the corridor was the best way to get my attention I suppose" Hermione retorted raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah. Nevermind that. I need your help."

"With what?"

"I er… I need you to help me make it look like I tried to do something and failed." Draco sounded unsure of what he wanted from her himself.

"Tried to do what?" Hermione sighed exasperated why did he have to be so vague all the time?

"I can't tell you that. Not until you agree to help and not tell anyone anything, not even precious little Potter and Weasel." He said with a sneer. The nerve of him she thought, kidnapping her, asking for her help and then insulting her friends, it was just like Malfoy.

"And why would I do that?"

"I dunno" He shrugged his shoulders "Consider it a favour, I'll owe you."

"Well I'm not going to help you unless you tell me what you're supposed to be doing, why and who for" Hermione snapped at him, folding her arms across her chest

"An awful thing, to save my Father, for Him." _Him? Not Him surely_ , Hermione wondered, to save his father she could believe but not that he was working for Voldemort.

"Who?" She asked in disbelief

"Oh don't play dumb Granger. Smartest witch of your age," He scoffed "Him , you-know-who, the Dark Lord... Voldemort!"

She suddenly remembered the conversation she had had with Harry at the beginning of the year, maybe he'd had a point.

"Right, of course silly me how could I forget! You're his junior Death Eater in training." Hermione spat out her words to hurt, she wasn't sure why but she was furious, how could he betray his school like that, working for Voldemort?

"Shut up Granger." He growled taking a step closer to her towering over her petite frame "If I wanted to do this, any of this, would I be here now asking you...no. Begging you to help me find a way to not do it!"

"Help you not do what!" Hermione was losing it, she could see the hurt and pain in his eyes, she wanted to give in and help him so much, but he was Malfoy, how could she trust him?

"Dammit Granger! Listen to me." His voice broke and cracked, she could sense he was becoming desperate "I can't tell you unless you promise to help me. I'm not just jinxing a few Mud-muggle borns, this is serious!"

"How can I even think about helping you if you won't trust me, or won't help me to trust you?"

"I DON'T KNOW! I don't know. I just don't fucking know any more Granger. Please just help me, trust me, this one time. I'm trying to change. You see the good in everyone else Granger, so why not in me?" He was pleading now.

Glancing up, Hermione realised that tears were starting to fill up the cloudy eyes she was staring right into.

As Malfoy swiped his sleeve over his face to brush them away, his arm caught Hermione's hair, pulling it away from her face and she saw how close they were, he was stood right in front of her, too close in front of her. She could just tilt her head slightly up and her lips would graze his fixed jaw line. But she didn't move, and neither did she. Maybe they should have, then she wouldn't notice that he was beautiful. His skin was porcelain and his stormy eyes has flecks of bright silver in them, but he was broken, he had deep shadows under his eyes, blemishing the perfect canvas that was his face.

 _And he's Malfoy_ , She thought shaking her head, he couldn't be beautiful, not when he had done so many terrible things to her, to everyone.

Tearing her eyes away from his she looked down. "I don't Malfoy, I find it very difficult to find good in a lot of people nowadays." Hermione let her eyes flick up to meet his one more time and with an apologetic shrug she walked away. It wasn't until she was sat down in Alchemy that she realised he had stopped himself from saying mudblood, twice"


End file.
